<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>A girl lost by BrokenSymphony</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24324334">A girl lost</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/BrokenSymphony/pseuds/BrokenSymphony'>BrokenSymphony</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Death, F/M, Gen, Mad Ravings, Madness, Other, inner turmoil</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 05:20:45</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>760</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24324334</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/BrokenSymphony/pseuds/BrokenSymphony</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Daenerys reflection upon her life atop Drogon before the bells rang at Kings Landing.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Jorah Mormont &amp; Daenerys Targaryen, Khal Drogo/Daenerys Targaryen, Missandei &amp; Daenerys Targaryen</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>28</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>A girl lost</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>She clutched onto the dark scales of her dragon, her aching heart holding onto the thin dangling thread of empathy, her child, the only bond she is left with. She paid the iron price to reach this city, the glorious capital her ancestors built.</p><p> Images flashed in her mind, of a strong and noble white knight, who treated her like a queen and cared for her like a grand daughter. He warned her of her father's flaws and fondly shared stories of her elder brother which she held onto like an adorable little sister she would have been. He was supposed to be here giving her a disapproving look. </p><p>There supposed to be another knight, a disgraced one, but undeniably faithful to her. He would let her burn the world to a crisp and still would look at her like she meant the world to him. </p><p>Her gentle and shy best friend was missing too. Over the years, she has become more of a sister to her and yet she stood helpless when her best friend was tossed down like a doll made of porcelain. How her soft body would have got cracked and crashed due to the impact? </p><p>Dracarys, her last words singing loud and clear in her mind. Her dragon screeched and people ran in fear. But all she could listen was how incomplete and alone his roar was. It should have be accompanied by two more, one wild and another eerily calm. </p><p>Her beautiful children were no more. Their wings never flapped again leaving a storm behind. Their breaths never mingled with air anymore, creating puffs of smoke. One lies alone buried deep under the snow and another sank to the bottom of an ocean. They should have been here with her, standing alongside their brother. </p><p>The Red Keep stood tall and proud amidst the chaos, the Lannister red and yellow fluttering cruelly, mocking her, mocking her entire family. 300 years of blood and toil, of death and triumph, of loss and legacy, erased from its roots as if it was never there. It should have been her house colors, a bottomless black with passionate red. </p><p>The Starks mostly hid in their frozen land clinging to their personal sense of honor for centuries. The Lannisters plotted like hyenas and jackles from behind rather than the proud lion they stand sigil too. The Baratheons, the Tyrells, the Iron born everybody had an excuse for their actions, justifications for their moral ground. They were no better than her twisted and failed family. But everybody behaved they were better and she was the threat, the unpredictable mad queen who must not be trusted or respected but feared or discarded. </p><p>She wanted to come home. She clearly remembered her intention was pure and innocent in the beginning. It still is but she isn't anymore. She has lost too much to reach this place and the place doesn't remotely feel like home.</p><p> Home was Drogo's strong arms and Rhaego's restless movements in her belly. Home was Visery's cruelty and Rhaegar's legacy. Home was Missandei braiding her hair, and Ser Barristan keeping guard. Home was her Viserion throwing tantrums and Rhaegal sulking silently.</p><p>She lost her youngest child for the king in the North. She placed her Dothraki and Unsullied before these pathetic Westerosi men in the army against the dead. Yes, she is the queen of ashes, her way is the way of fire and blood. Didn't she do anything right and didn't these people make any mistakes. But these people just see what they wish to see, she realized bitterly. </p><p>These Westerosi men are sheep. Are you a sheep?  You are a dragon, be a dragon. She should have listened to the advise of the old woman who fought her way in this ungrateful world but she listened to her failure of a Hand who just knew how to drink and lose wars. </p><p>Tears burnt her eyes making everything a haze. She blinked them away furiously, her once soft features turned into a death scowl, an unsettling amount of anger thrummed inside her. The bells rang but the sound of Dracarys from her dead friend rang louder in her ears. </p><p>She took flight on the dark wings, like a broken angel, leaving fire and death in her wake. </p><p>A Targaryen alone in the world is indeed a terrible thing. On that day, a girl with dreams of home, of a lemon tree and a red door was lost terribly to the game of thrones she tried her whole life to break.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I wanted to write something, anything to get out of my mundane work from home where my keyboard clinks are the eternal music to my ears and there is no respite from work. </p><p>If you still like it, please hit a like or leave a comment. It will brighten my day.</p></blockquote></div></div>
</body>
</html>